


Sun May Shine

by iimplicitt



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Angst, Anti-Muggle Content, Blood and Violence, Brotherhood, Death Eater Draco Malfoy, Death Eaters, Eventual Sex, F/M, Falling In Love, Friendship, Good Death Eaters, Good and Evil, Guilt, Love, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Post-Hogwarts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Suggestive Themes, Team as Family, Wizarding Wars (Harry Potter), Wizarding World (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-23 04:57:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23506072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iimplicitt/pseuds/iimplicitt
Summary: Five years have passed and The Boy Who Lived, is believed to be dead. Draco Malfoy has found himself in Voldemort's inner circle, one of the highest ranking Death Eaters with a reputation drenched in blood. In the years that have passed, Draco had lost himself in the deep waters of hopelessness, thinking the war would never end and he would be destined for ruin. Until one day he gets assigned an apprentice from one of the new recruits, his task to train her to be just as ruthless as he is.It's hard for him though, he keeps getting distracted by her wings.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Pansy Parkinson/Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	1. prologue

_"Suffering is like anything else. Live with it long enough, and you learn to like the taste."_

_Leigh Bardugo,_ **_Six of Crows_ **

**_~'~_ **

**When** was someone supposed to know when it was finally too much? When do they know if they've been pushed too far? When was it too late to turn back? Was his soul eternally damned?

Was it too late to ask for forgiveness?

Draco had been asking himself the same questions ever since the war started. Ever since he was branded like cattle.

At the thought, he rolled up his sleeve and lifted his arm, the limb feeling like dead weight as the Dark Mark glinted in the pale moonlight sneaking through his curtains. His silver eyes watched apathetically as the snake coiled under his skin, the venom making itself a home in his veins.

Every time he felt like he might be reaching a breaking point, he woke up another day, and went on. Simple as that. He even found himself looking forward to the days work, despite how disgusted he felt afterwards.

Killing and killing and killing and killing.

Mercy had no place in war, not anymore.

The actions were easy. He could cast the spells in his sleep, and he _always_ meant them.

It was the guilt that swallowed him whole late at night, though. He'd cry, sob, tear at his skin, claw at his hair, sometimes he couldn't breathe, begging for it to stop. But the guilt would stomp on his tongue.

Guilt kept him human.

It had been five years since the Battle of Hogwarts... five years since _Saint Potter_ died. Or went missing. That was the thing, no one really knew.

But in the boy's absence, the Dark Lord reigned victorious, ruling over the magical world with an iron fist. And muggles reaped the consequences.

Through the years, Draco had managed to find his way into his Lord's inner circle, proving himself time and time again. He was no longer seen as Lucius' son, the son of a disappointment. He had become his own person, an icon if you will. Draco's voice never trembled when he spoke, he never coward away with a simple gaze from those crimson slits. He always stood tall, shoulders pushed back and chin held high and that's what earned him his high rank.

Ruthlessness is what was admired. The indifference Draco had mastered was remarkable, painting a portrait of himself in such beauty that none of his wickedness could ever be seen in his sharp features. But they were known by all. They were his brand.

His sins became his name.

The boy who quivered in the face of killing Dumbledore was no more.

That part of himself died a long, long time ago.


	2. taboo

_“When everyone knows you're a monster, you needn't waste time doing every monstrous thing.”_

_Leigh Bardugo, **Six of Crows**_

_~`~_

**CHAPTER I**

Pristine, shiny leather shoes clicked down the hall, matching the incessant tick of the father clock hanging on the wall.

Draco rubbed at his eyes as a yawn stretched his mouth, pulling at his tense cheeks and shaking his head. He’d been tossing and turning all night, which was nothing new. But as soon as he started to drift off Theo knocked on his door, telling him it was time to get ready.

Everyone was already in the drawing room, he could hear their chatter through the door, seeping out into the blue hued hallway. The large floor to ceiling windows at the end provided a clear view of the impending thunderstorm brewing. The dark clouds pulsing with their own yawns of thunder.

Rolling his shoulders, he tried shaking away his exhaustion again as he stopped in front of the door, resting a hand on the cool metal of the handle.

Taking a breath, he opened it and silence immediately fell heavy on his ears.

Eyes followed him as he made his way to the head of the table, only sparing his friends a glance before sitting down. The fire was licking the back of his neck, already warming him substantially. Everyone stared at either him or the table, waiting patiently.

If a meeting wasn’t dealing with something absolutely vital, Draco was usually the one leading it.

He sighed impartially, as if disappointed in everyone, “any news?”

A man from the Kama family spoke up, Caleb was his name. His voice shook and his dark eyes only met Draco’s for a moment. “News on what, sir?”

Pressing two fingers to his temple, he rested an elbow on the arm of his chair, “I wasn’t aware I’d been demoted to overseeing a group of imbeciles. News on the resistance, Kama. What else?” Draco’s tone was as austere as his eyes, glinting silver and burning like Uriel’s sword.

Blaise snickered before clearing his throat, and Draco did best to hide his amusement with an inclined brow. “There was a small cluster found in some of the lower levels of the Ministry,” Blaise began, his deep voice a rumbling baritone that matched the thunder shaking the windows. “Four to be exact, we found evidence of them being sympathizers for The Order. We believe they were trying to kick start it again.”

They shared a glance. _The Order of the Phoenix_ had fallen back in 1998… but there were whispers.

“And what of them?”

“Killed. After extracting what information we could.”

“Which was?”

Theo shrugged one shoulder indifferently, “not much, not anything viable that is. Consider it mostly conspiracy.”

Nodding, he rubbed at his chin. He would’ve liked it if they informed him first, but he trusted Blaise enough to tell him if there was anything of importance.

Suddenly there was a searing heat burning into his chest, his family ring glowing red hot beneath his shirt. Everyone else’s chosen object did the same and they turned to him, awaiting orders.

Someone spoke that godforsaken name.

He stood up, jaw set, “Zabini, Nott, Parkinson, and Mather come with me. The rest of you return to your positions.”

With a multitude of nods and ‘yes sirs’, Draco along with his chosen few apparated.

**Their** feet landed on pavement, slick with rain and the drops felt that bullets as they slammed into Draco. His hair was already plastered to his forehead and he pushed the locks back and looked up at the home. It was very muggle looking and he sighed, dread pooling in his stomach.

There were undoubtedly children.

Waving his wand, his mask slid over his face, sticking to him like a second skin made from the skull of a modified python. There was no need to _muffliato_ , the storm masked their steps as they stalked forward.

As they got closer he saw an older couple through the front window, most likely in their late forties, lounged on the couch watching television with a glass of wine, snuggled into one another. Their wands rested on the coffee table well away, out of reach.

They never learn.

Draco was going to simply open the door, but being one for dramatics, Pansy threw it open, blowing it off its hinges with a silent _reducto_. The couple screamed and hell broke free. Draco barely turned his back before he saw the crimson glimmer leaving Mather’s wand.

Screams filled the air, deafening, battling with the raging winds thrashing at the void door.

Walking up the stairs, family portraits greeted him. They were mostly likely a half-blood/muggle born family. His heart lurched painfully at the picture of two kids.

They never learn.

When he reached the top of the steps, it was a narrow hall with four doors. One was wide open: the bathroom. The rest were shut, pristine panels of white wood. Two of them were decorated. A keep out sign with a skull: most likely the son. Rainbow stickers were littered around the name Kelsie: the daughter. Both doors were shut and his mind made quick work. If two young children were scared, their parents out of reach, what would they do?

Would the girl run to her older brother's room? Would the boy seek out to protect his little sister? The boy was old enough to know not to run after their parents, old enough to know where safety laid. But they didn’t go to the bathroom, the clear place with a lock.

Draco’s eyes turned to the only other room with not only a lock, but presented itself as a safe haven.

The parents' bedroom.

Moments like these, as he took those damned steps forward, he knew the answer to all those questions he always asked himself.

It was too late for him.

Quietly opening the door, he heard a stifled gasp come from under the bed. He shut his eyes for a moment, calming his own breathing before flickering on the light. He didn’t want to frighten them.

“Come out, I know you’re under the bed.” A few seconds ticked by, nothing. He couldn’t blame them, if he were in their position he wouldn’t move an inch.

“Draco!” Theo called from downstairs, “have you found the kids yet! Hurry the fuck up!”

Clenching his jaw, Draco could punch him sometimes. He didn’t have time for this. He hit them with a stinging hex to make them scream, for only a moment, before knocking them out.

With a hovering charm, Draco brought them out from under the bed. The boy was no older than thirteen and the girl, Kelsie, looked about nine.

Leading their sleeping forms down stairs, Mather looked them over, assuming they passed out from the cruciatus curse, “they didn’t last long.”

Draco hummed, not bothering to answer him. He made eye contact with Pansy, who had understanding flickering in her warm gaze. Ignoring her, he stalked out the door. Draco didn’t see a point in using _crucio_ , they would’ve passed out eventually.

Blaise and Theo brought out the parents, knocked out and tied up, their flesh straining against the wound rope.  
  


**The** building was cold, the stone and black tile soaking in the chilled air from outside. Currently Draco was in a room with the two kids, Kelsie and he found out the boy's name is Jason. Kelsie and Jason Tyler. Meanwhile Blaise was down the hall, interrogating the parents. Draco hated this place, it was government sanctioned for prisoners and it reminded him too much of the basement at his manor.

All the horrors.

Shaking his head, he slid off his mask and woke up the two kids, who immediately started to scream. Wincing, he cast a silent _silencio_ , watching as the kid’s mouths gaped open and closed like a stranded fish until they realized no one could hear them.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he tried softly, though his tone had taken on a more permanent rasp over the past few years. Mistrust shone in their eyes, Jason holding his sister close as she silently cried. He removed the charm then, their voices rushing back.

“Who are you?” Kelsie asked, her voice very small.

Draco crossed his arms, then forced them to his sides, trying to appear open. He offered a smile, though small, “I’m Draco, and I’m here to help. But in order for me to do that, I need to know something. Something very important. Okay?”

“Where are our parents?” Jason bit out. Draco could practically smell the Gryffindor off him.

He nodded his head towards the door, “just down the hall.” Getting tortured and screamed at relentlessly.

“Can we see them? I want to see my mummy,” Kelsie pleaded, looking up at him with the wide eyes only granted by childhood innocence. A sickening feeling churned in his stomach, it was her, wasn’t it? She said _his_ name. She wouldn’t have known any better.

“You can see your mum when we’re finished.”

Lie.

“You can see both of them, if you help me.”

Lie.

“Promise?”

Draco smiled warmly at her, “promise.”

Lie.

Slipping out one after the other as if it was a Gregorian chant.

“It was me,” Jason blurted and Draco turned to him. “I said it, I said You-Know-Who’s name.”

And now Jason was lying to protect his sister. Draco had made him lie, made the boy feel like he had to take the punishment. “What’s going to happen to us?”

“You’ll be fine.”

_Lies lies lies lies lies._

They wouldn’t be okay. They wouldn’t be killed, not yet at least, if they proved themselves. Because after today Jason and Kelsie would be shipped off, raised as future soldiers for the Dark Lord.

Leading them down the hall, he assured them they’d see their mum and dad in all due time. But when he reached their door, he blocked their vision as they passed, shielding them from the sight of their parents on the floor.

Dead.

**Later** that night he had holed himself up in his room, which was in the farthest reach of Malfoy Manor. After his father was practically stripped of everything, the estate fell into Draco’s hands and he now also housed Blaise, Pansy, and Theo.

Occasionally offering rooms to any other high ranking Death Eater who was out on a mission.

Draco was on the floor, his back against his bed as he brought out an old and worn journal, the yellowed pages on the verge of bursting from the spine. Grabbing a quill, he wet the tip on his tongue and scribbled in the names of the Tyler family.

He wrote everyone’s name.

At the sound of his stomach growling, he squeezed his eyes shut and sighed. Wounding the journal shut with a string, he stood up and shoved it into his desk drawer, pausing for a moment as he caught sight of his silver prefect badge from his fifth year.

Curling his lip, he slammed the drawer shut and made his way over to his potions cabinet. Standing tall at seven feet, carved from ebony wood and had slick paned glass as its doors. Shuffling around the many bottles, glass clinked before he got his hands on the phial he wanted.

He loses his appetite a lot, so Draco formed the habit of simply drinking supplement potions as meal replacements.

Bringing it to his lips, he threw his head back and swallowed the tasteless liquid and a few seconds later a warmness of being full pooled in his stomach.

“Is he okay?” Theo’s voice echoed from the hall.

There was a long pause as footsteps glided by his door. Draco closed his eyes, resting his forehead against the cold glass door of the cabinet.

Pansy sighed, “when is he ever okay?”


End file.
